Sunday, May 25, 2008

In Honor of Memorial Day

These heroes are dead. They died for liberty - they died for us. They are at rest. They sleep in the land they made free, under the flag they rendered stainless, under the solemn pines, the sad hemlocks, the tearful willows, and the embracing vines. They sleep beneath the shadows of the clouds, careless alike of sunshine or of storm, each in the windowless Place of Rest. Earth may run red with other wars - they are at peace. In the midst of battle, in the roar of conflict, they found the serenity of death. I have one sentiment for soldiers living and dead: cheers for the living; tears for the dead.

~Robert G. Ingersoll

Thursday, May 22, 2008

Road Trip!!!!


Posted: 2008-05-16 16:38:07

HUSAVIK, Iceland (May 16) - Sigurdur Hjartarson is missing a human penis. But he's not worried: Four men have promised to donate theirs to him when they die.

As you might guess from the large wooden sculpture outside the Icelandic Phallological Museum is not your typical tourist trap. Located in the fishing village of Husavik, the museum features of a collection of 261 preserved penises from 90 animal species.

Hjartarson is founder and owner of the Icelandic Phallological Museum, which offers visitors from around the world a close-up look at the long and the short of the male reproductive organ.

His collection, which began in 1974 with a single bull's penis that looked something like a riding crop, now boasts 261 preserved members from 90 species.

The largest, from a sperm whale, is 154 pounds and 5.58 ft long. The smallest, a hamster penis bone, is just 2 millimeters and must be viewed through a magnifying glass.

One species conspicuous by its absence is homo sapiens, but that may soon be rectified since a German, an American, an Icelander and a Briton have promised to donate their organs after death, according to certificates on display.

The American, 52-year-old Stan Underwood, supplied a written description of his penis -- which he purportedly nicknamed "Elmo" -- for display alongside a life-size plastic mold of the member as well as his pledge to donate it.

Hjartarson said the Icelandic donor, a 93-year-old from nearby Akureyri, was a womanizer in his youth who thought having his penis in the collection might bring him eternal fame.

But vanity may make him rethink the offer.

"He has mentioned lately that his penis is shrinking as he gets older and he is worried it might not make a proper exhibit," Hjartarson said.

The museum, originally opened in Reykjavik in 1997, has now moved to the quiet fishing village of Husavik, 298 miles northeast of the capital.

Open from May to September, it is housed in a plain brown building, the entrance marked by a tall brown phallus near the door and a penis-shaped sign over the front porch.

A growing number of people from all over the world view the collection each year, 60 percent of them women.

"We had 6,000 visitors last summer and actually made a profit," Hjartarson said with a smile.

The specimens, most of which were donated by fishermen, hunters and biologists, are kept in glass jars of formaldehyde or dried and mounted on the wall, creating an atmosphere that is part science lab, part trophy room.

Hjartarson has paid for only one -- an elephant penis nearly 1 meter long that hangs, stuffed and mounted on a wooden board, in the museum's "foreign section."

He said he began collecting penises 24 years ago, when working as a school administrator, with little notion he would one day be running a museum devoted to the subject.

"It was just a hobby," he said, adding that the collection was relegated to his office until the inception of the museum.

"They were not on display in the sitting room."

The museum's "folklore collection" includes a few sculptures and joke items, but no sex toys or paraphernalia. The more risque displays stay under wraps.

"Two elderly German women came in a while ago and after viewing the exhibit, they scolded me for displaying a group of figurines in Kama Sutra poses, so I put them in here," Hjartarson said, lifting a black cloth off a glass-topped box labeled "Erotica."

"This way nobody has to view them unless they want to."

Hjartarson maintains a light-hearted approach to his delicate subject matter, saying a sense of humor and a bit of intelligence are necessary to appreciate the collection.

"I hope visitors leave the museum in a better mood than when they arrived," he said.

Music for your listening pleasure by Da Vinci's Notebook

Friday, May 16, 2008


The song you are hearing is called "Internet Porn" by the a cappella group Da Vinci's Notebook.

I wanted this to play for the post I did about my son (now to be known as BUBBA) and internet porn but I couldn't figure out how to get the fucker on here. On top of that trying to find the bastard was like finding hen's teeth.

Please take the time to listen to it because it will make you laugh. That's a fucking good thing, don'tcha think?

Tuesday, May 13, 2008


I think I’m having phantom PMS. I’m royally fucking pissed off. I’m grouchy. I’m totally insane. I’m even bloated. Bloody fucking hell! Thank the Gods I have no access to weapons.

So, my dear readers and friends, I’m gonna let loose on YOU! I’m one of those people that keep pushing all the petty, moderate and ginormous annoyances into a lovely, poisonous stew that simmers and bubbles for a long while until … it EXPLODES!!! And leaves you gasping for breath, crying, covered in noxious green, chunky goo. That’s how I roll, folks.

I want you to sit down, shut up and hold on for the ride. Here’s what all the thoughts in my head look like:

This ain’t gonna be pretty. It probably won’t make much sense – stream of consciousness, ya know. But I’m going to let it out. Warning: DO NOT TRY TO COMMENT WITH LOGIC!!! It will be ignored. My rants have nothing to do with logic. If I were logical, I wouldn’t be arguing with myself all the time or trying to corral thoughts zipping around my head like deaf bats on crack. These are three of the combustible thoughts that I was able to catch today.

#1. After many years of “sex as a chore,” I ventured out to find “fun” sex. It was during this time that Mulder had done something that shoved me off the edge right into the abyss. I hated, despised, disrespected, ignored and generally had no use for Mulder. I started reading blogs, articles, fiction, fantasy, medical journals , memoirs, etc. on sex. I discussed it with cyber-friends because I have very few RL friends. I bought my first vibrator and started to masturbate. Oh! BABY, I LOVED it!!! I discovered what I really like and need to orgasm. I could make myself cum with my fingers or the Rabbit. I started to see myself as sexy, desirable and interesting – not a fat, dull, middle-aged woman. As things progressed and I sunk deeper into the abyss, I sought out medical treatment for clinical depression. This came with medication and therapy. I doubt the therapy has had the same effect on my overall ability to achieve orgasm but I’m pretty sure the medication does. I still have to take medication because I’m s-l-o-w-l-y climbing out of the abyss and it’s got slippery walls. Is it the Wellbutrin I take for depression? Is it the Paxil I take for panic disorder? Is it the Lisinopril for blood pressure or the Lipitor for cholesterol? Whichever the fuck it is, it’s pissed me off. My clitoris is dead and my g-spot nonexistent. If Mulder, Art or any prospective “dates” tried to make me cum with just their tongue of fingers, they’d be walking around with nubs mumbling incoherently. Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck! I have to buy batteries in bulk because all my vibrators get so much use. I’m surprised THEY haven’t blown up or shorted out because they are “on” for so freakin’ long. Dammit!

#2. I’m tired. I’m tired of working, tired of stupid people, tired of traffic, tired of exorbitant gas prices. Just plain fucking weary. My boss is a good boss but he thinks everyone in the office should be, “like a family.” I’ve got my own real family and that’s quite enough for me. There is not one person in that office that I would choose as a friend let alone want as a family member. *Sigh* My co-worker that sits not three feet from me is like Martha Stewart, Betty Crocker, Mary, your nosey next-door-neighbor and mother all rolled into one. She prays for me. S.H.E. P.R.A.Y.S. F.O.R. M.E!!! She refuses to recognize that Mulder and I are divorced. She wants me to eat stuff, all the fucking time. Trust me, I can miss a few meals without any lasting effects on my body. She knows everyone’s name, what job they do, and all their business. You know, their life history business. I couldn’t care less about any of it. I don’t like to talk much less talk about random work people that don’t interest me in the least. Although I respect her desire to lead a “good Christian life.” With a strong belief in God, etc. She doesn’t respect my wishes NOT to be prayed for and that I have God issues and prefer NOT to have religious education during work hours or EVER for that matter. My small consolation with this is she hates swearing so I make sure I swear a lot and say, “FUCK!!!” as many times a day as I can.

#3. Having an argument in my head with the 90% bitch Dust Bunny and the 10% nice Dust Bunny about a guy I’ve been talking to. He so totally does NOT get the whole “Friends with Benefit” arrangement. He said that was what he was looking for because he’s been hurt several times. What he said and what he says are at two ends of the universe. I don’t want another full-time man. I don’t want to be someone else’s mother or constant companion. I definitely don’t need another person looking to me to be their entertainment, their problem solver or plaything. Mulder and I are trying to work out a satisfactory arrangement that will make us both happy with our new selves. This is work. Trust me, friends. Most days are difficult. (I’ll leave you with that right now. The Mulder and me situation is an ongoing story and I haven’t really even given you much to go on about that yet.) This man I’m talking to, comments, suggests, taunts, teases, berates, whines and generally gets on my last nerve. But here’s the rub – the evil Bunny wants to tell him to, “Fuck off, Jack!” but the good Bunny doesn’t want to hurt him. I DON’T WANT TO HURT SOMEONE I’VE NEVER LAID EYES ON! How fucking messed up is that?

By the way, have y’all seen Amy Winehouse lately? Isn’t she the most pitiful excuse for a human being? Who or Whatever is responsible for creation of the species certainly does have a wicked, warped, twisted sense of humor.

I have more but I think I’ll let it rest tonight. You’re all probably bleeding from your eyes right about now anyway.

Saturday, May 10, 2008


1. My mother taught me TO APPRECIATE A JOB WELL DONE .
'If you're going to kill each other, do it outside.
I just finished cleaning.'

2. My mother taught me RELIGION .
'You better pray that will come out of the carpet.'

3 My mother taught me about TIME TRAVEL .
'If you don't straighten up, I'm going to knock you
into the middle of next week!'

4. My mother taught me LOGIC .
' Because I said so, that's why.'

5 My mother taught me MORE LOGIC .
'If you fall out of that swing and break your neck,
you're not going to the store with me.'

6. My mother taught me FORESIGHT .
'Make sure you wear clean underwear,
in case you're in an accident.'

7. My mother taught me IRONY .
'Keep crying, and I'll give you something to cry about.'

8. My mother taught me about the science of OSMOSIS .
'Shut your mouth and eat your supper.'

9. My mother taught me about CONTORTIONISM .
'Will you look at that dirt on the back of your neck!'

10. My mother taught me about STAMINA .
'You'll sit there until all that spinach is gone.'

11. My mother taught me about WEATHER .
'This room of yours looks as if a tornado went through it.'

12. My mother taught me about HYPOCRISY .
'If I told you once, I've told you a million times.
Don't exaggerate!'

13. My mother taught me the CIRCLE OF LIFE .
'I brought you into this world, and I can take you out.'

14. My mother taught me about BEHAVIOUR MODIFICATION .
'Stop acting like your father!'

15. My mother taught me about ENVY .
'There are millions of less fortunate children in this world
who don't have wonderful parents like you do.'

16. My mother taught me about ANTICIPATION .
'Just wait until we get home.'

17. My mother taught me about RECEIVING .
'You are going to get it when you get home!'

18. My mother taught me MEDICAL SCIENCE .
'If you don't stop crossing your eyes, they are going
to get stuck that way.'

19. My mother taught me ESP .
'Put your sweater on; don't you think
I know when you are cold?'

20. My mother taught me HUMOUR .
'When that lawn mower cuts off your toes,
don't come running to me.'

21. My mother taught me HOW TO BECOME AN ADULT .
'If you don't eat your vegetables,
you'll never grow up.'

22. My mother taught me GENETICS .
'You're just like your father.'

23. My mother taught me about my ROOTS .
'Shut that door behind you. Do you think
you were born in a barn?'

24. My mother taught me WISDOM
'When you get to be my age, you'll understand.'

25. And my favourite: My mother taught me about JUSTICE .
'One day you'll have kids, and I hope
they turn out just like you
Happy Mother's Day to all you mothers out there. I didn't write this but dammit it's so perfect! I will take responsibility for the picture. That's my grandma (sitting), my three oldest aunts (all now deceased, I guess you could figure that out!), my great-aunt and her son. Her son was illegitimate - SCANDAL in the late 1800's.
This picture was taken in Scotland, many years before they all came to the USA along with my grandfather.

Monday, May 5, 2008


Jim Carey

Hey! I just noticed I passed 5,000 page hits. Is that something to celebrate!?!